


Steal My Girl

by Laziam (MItCheLlInE)



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Angst, M/M, Minor Injuries, Pining, Shy Zayn, WW2 AU, descriptions of general war scenes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:51:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8414455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MItCheLlInE/pseuds/Laziam
Summary: Both Zayn and Liam make a potentially fatal decision during one afternoon of the London blitz.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as part of the 1dlyricwheel challenge. I hope you like it. :)

Steal My Girl

 

London, October 1940

 

“Zayn… Hurry up, love… We have to go!” Trisha Malik yells into the small house, ushering her three daughters through the front door. 

 

“I need to get something, Mum. I’ll be right behind you,” Zayn shouts back. “You and the girls go ahead.”

 

The air raid sirens have been wailing for a while now, and Zayn knows that it is a stupid idea not to rush to the shelter, but he has to go and get it. Hopefully, it will be where he thinks he left it. Running up the stairs in a wild panic, he forgets about the loose panel of wood on the top step. He trips, barely being able to maintain enough balance not to fall flat on his face, but his glasses get knocked down, tumbling to the bottom. Shit, he’ll just have to pick them up on his way out. 

 

When he reaches his room, he stumbles to the bed and rummages blindly among the bedding. Eventually, he finds what he is looking for in the crack between the mattress and the headboard. Thank God for that—he smiles weakly at the item in his hand. It is a rectangular bookmark, made out of tin with a crooked ‘Z’ etched into one side. It is not the best looking item, but Liam gave it to him a few birthdays ago, and he has been sleeping with it under his pillow ever since. 

 

Just as he is about to leave, an almighty crash shakes the house, knocking him off his feet. The air in the room is thick with dust and soot, making it difficult to breathe. Zayn crawls into the far corner, accidentally putting his hands repeatedly into fragments of glass and pieces of rubble. His body shakes violently as he hugs his knees to his chest. The blast must have been very close, judging by the missing window panes and the huge hole in the roof directly above the bed. 

 

Zayn prays silently for the welfare of everyone on his street. Hopefully, his neighbours all made it to the relative safety of the school basement, which functions as the local bomb shelter. The dust still hangs heavy in the room, and even if he could see more than a couple of feet in front of him, which he can’t without his glasses, it would be suicidal to try and make it to the school now. He presses his fists over his ears in an attempt to keep out the sounds of war. The bookmark in his hand is starting to cut into his flesh, but at least it reminds him that he is still alive, and it also reminds him of Liam. 

 

Liam Payne, who has no idea that he has been Zayn’s entire world from the moment he moved with his mother onto this street. Liam, who is kind, funny, brave and—extremely hot. His bravery is what led him to volunteer for the army only today, although he didn’t have to. He is a dock worker, which means he is important to the home front and doesn’t have to do active duty, but he and his drinking buddies decided to volunteer. 

 

Zayn felt like someone had punched him in the stomach when he heard Mrs Payne talk to his mum about it. Why did Liam not tell Zayn before he went? Does he think he is too weak to cope with the news? Or perhaps Zayn is simply not relevant. At the very least, he would have thought that Liam valued their friendship enough to tell him in person. Not that he would ever have the same feelings that Zayn harbours, but they are close, and it hurts that he can just forget about him. Zayn has lots of practice in hiding his emotions. Every weekend, when Liam takes yet another girl to a dance, he sits in his room over his books, not able to concentrate, just trying not to think about someone else being the centre of Liam’s attention. But Zayn has learnt to live with that; he knows nothing will ever happen between them. 

 

The dull roar of the enemy planes overhead brings him back to his current, precarious situation. This house could receive a direct hit at any moment, killing him before he has a chance to tell Liam how he feels. Silent sobs wrack his body at the thought that Liam might never know what he means to him and clutching the bookmark to his chest, he tries to comfort himself with the thought that at least he has had someone like Liam in his life at all. 

 

\----------

 

Liam is gasping for air as he barges through the door of the shelter. He was on the tram home from the recruitment office when all public transport was suspended, and he had no option but to run the rest of the way. All the familiar folks have already settled in the cellar under the school building, trying to distract themselves with games or sing-songs, but despite that, the fear is palpable. Around fifty men, women and children are sitting or lying down on the long, wooden benches along the damp walls. Mrs Payne rushes over to hug her son, clearly relieved to see him. 

 

“You left it late, love. I was beginning to wonder where you were,” she chides him lovingly, ruffling his short, brown hair.

 

“Sorry, mum, I came as quickly as I could,” Liam says, squeezing her tightly. 

 

Now that he has reassured his mother, Liam’s eyes search for the Malik family. Trisha and the girls are huddled together at the far end of the large room, but there is no sign of Zayn. 

 

He makes his way over to them, throwing Trisha a questioning look that she immediately understands. 

 

“He was right behind us… Went back into the house. e forgot something,” she reports, shrugging helplessly, her voice full of worry. 

 

“And you didn’t see him come out again?” Liam can feel his chest tighten with dread.

 

She shakes her head slowly, eyes brimming with tears. 

 

“Right, I’m going to get him,” Liam declares without hesitation.

 

“No, Liam. You can’t go back; it’s carnage out there,” his mum implores him.

 

“I can’t just do nothing. He knows that I’ve never let him down before, and I’m not about to start now,” Liam says, and after giving his mum a quick peck on the cheek, he runs up the stairs without a backwards glance, before anyone else can attempt to stop him. 

 

The sky looks even more menacing in the dying light of the late afternoon. A veil of smoke drifts over the city, pierced by the crisscrossing beams of the searchlights. The low rumbling above seems to be more distant, indicating that the planes over this area have moved on, at least for now. Liam has walked along here countless times, but now some of the streets are barely recognisable. Many of the modest houses have been reduced to rubble, and he can only hope that the occupants were not at home when disaster struck. 

 

Despite his best efforts not to let the growing sense of trepidation get the better of him, he can’t stop the flood of terrifying thoughts. What if something has happened to Zayn? What if he is badly injured or—? In a world that is literally falling apart around Liam, the gentle, beautiful boy is his sanctuary, in which the ugliness of the war can’t penetrate. His mesmerising, hazel eyes give him reassurance, when nothing else makes sense. Liam thanks the universe every day, that Zayn is terribly shortsighted, which prevents his call up to the army. He will have a brilliant career as a teacher in front of him, when this madness eventually ends. This is the main reason why Liam let himself be swept up in the euphoria to fight the enemy. He can’t be responsible for holding Zayn back ……..

 

He hurries along the dusty cobblestones, feeling his heart pound in his throat, and when he   
reaches his destination, dread turns to panic. Although the building it is still standing, all of the windows are blown out, the front door missing. A gaping hole in the roof, right above where Zayn’s bedroom would be, makes his stomach lurch. 

 

Liam has to climb over a pile of broken bricks before he can enter. After frantically searching the rooms on the ground floor, he turns toward the damaged staircase. At the last second, he avoids treading on what appears to be a black piece of plastic—Zayn’s glasses. They are covered in dirt, but otherwise intact. Oh god, he can’t see much without them. Did he leave the house? Is he lost somewhere, alone and afraid? Liam takes three steps at once, driven by a last shred of hope that Zayn may still be alive and in this house. His bedroom is directly opposite the stairs, and when Liam staggers through the door frame, he sees him: cowering in the corner, looking at him with those eyes, the ones Liam thought he might never see again. 

 

\-----------

 

Zayn knows in theory that it is Liam, standing there in front of him, but he is unable to comprehend what he sees. Surely, Liam went to the shelter? Surely, he is not reckless enough to come looking for a friend during an air raid? Maybe it’s a hallucination, a trick of Zayn’s brain to comfort him. For a moment, he enjoys what he can make out if he squints. Liam looks gorgeous, despite the grime on his face and the soot covering his hair. The coarse work shirt is only buttoned half way with its sleeves rolled up; his braces are hanging by his side. Zayn allows himself a rueful smile, which dies on his lips when it becomes clear that Liam is very much a reality.

 

“Oh my god, what the hell are you doing?” Liam demands. “Why did you turn back? Please say that you didn’t do it to rescue one of your precious books. You foolish idiot—I’ve been out of my mind, not knowing if you’re even alive.”

 

Liam’s outburst somehow doesn’t match the concerned look with which he scans Zayn’s crumpled form for injuries. Visibly relieved to find that he is still in one piece, he pulls his friend up by his shoulders.

 

“Come on; it’s too dangerous up here. Let’s wait it out in the cupboard under the stairs,” he urges, but Zayn isn’t cooperating. 

 

“Zayn, please, I’ve found your specs… Here.” He carefully places the glasses onto Zayn’s nose, after wiping the lenses on a reasonably clean part of his shirt.

 

“Were you gonna tell me?” Zayn asks quietly, trying to wriggle out of Liam’s grip. 

 

“Tell you what? Mate, this is not the time for a discussion.” 

 

Liam’s patience must be exhausted, because he tightens his hold and bundles a helpless Zayn downstairs, into the sturdiest place of the house. He ends up sitting halfway on Liam’s lap with his head on his chest and Liam’s arms wrapped securely around him. In any other scenario, this would be absolute heaven for him, but he needs to know the answer to the question that has been eating away at him since he overheard their mothers talking.

 

“So, were you gonna tell me, or were you just gonna leave?” he asks again, struggling to control the tremor in his voice.

 

“It’s not like that… I—of course I was… I was on my way, but you weren’t in the shelter,” Liam splutters after a long pause.

 

Zayn can feel Liam’s heart hammering away. Hopefully, that means that he is at least a little bit affected by Zayn’s question.

 

“You should have said something earlier; I had to find out from your mum.”

 

“I didn’t know how to,” Liam concedes. 

 

Tears prick Zayn’s eyes. “Never mind, what’s done is done,” he chokes out.

 

“Jesus, you’re injured,” Liam says suddenly, changing the subject. “Where is it coming from?”  
He points to a dark stain on the bottom of his shirt, where Zayn’s right hand is still balled into a fist.

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

Liam shifts his body so he can look at Zayn. 

 

“Zee, you’re bleeding; come here,” he says softly, taking Zayn’s hands into his. Those strong, hands, calloused from the hard labour at the docks. He gently unbends Zayn’s fingers, revealing the blood-covered bookmark.

 

Liam draws a sharp breath, his eyes wide. “This is what you’ve risked your life for? It’s only a stupid piece of metal.” 

 

“No—it’s everything; it’s all I will have left once you’re gone to be a hero.” The quiver in his own voice annoys Zayn a little. He doesn’t want Liam to see his desperation, his monumental effort to retain a minuscule amount of composure.

 

“You think I want to be a hero? And you did this because of me? I don’t understand.” In another set of circumstances, Liam’s facial expression might have been comical, but as it is, it just highlights how incredibly unaware of Zayn’s turmoil he is.

 

Zayn can’t hold it together anymore. What does it matter anyway? Liam is going to leave and may never return.

 

“I know you don’t,” he starts hesitantly before the emotional floodgates open and the words tumble from his tongue.

 

“You don’t understand how you make my heart stutter every time you smile, how the sound of your voice brightens my whole day or the way you turn up in my dreams night after night, making me wish I’d never wake up.”

 

Waiting for a response from Liam is agony. The furious pounding of Zayn’s heart against his chest masks any other feeling, even the very real fear of their current ordeal. After what seems like an eternity, Liam grabs him by the shoulders, bringing his face close to Zayn’s. 

 

“What are you saying, Zee?” he asks with a tone in his voice that Zayn can’t quite place.

 

“I’m saying that I love you, Liam. Always have.”

 

Letting go of his shoulders, Liam looks utterly bewildered as the magnitude of that statement sinks in.

 

“Why did you never mention anything?” 

 

“What would have been the point? I was too scared to lose your friendship, so I decided to torture myself with watching you go out with a different girl every weekend.”

 

“Oh, Zayn—nothing happened with those girls. Why do think I never took any of them out twice? I left them on their doorstep, with only a goodnight kiss, every single one of them.”

 

To say that Zayn is confused would be a massive understatement. Everybody knows that Liam likes the ladies… oesn’t he?

 

“Why?” he manages to croak out.

 

“Because of you,” Liam smiles. you may be clever, but you never notice that I can’t keep my eyes off you, that I get goosebumps whenever we touch. I know for sure, that I don’t exist if I don’t have you in my life.

 

Zayn shakes his head in disbelief, desperately trying not to imagine that his words could be true.

 

“Don’t lie to me, Liam… You don’t have to spare my feelings. It’s fine; you went to sign up and that’s that.”

 

“Look at me,” Liam says, lifting Zayn’s chin with his finger. “I went, yes, and I was going to join up, but I got as far as the front desk and I couldn’t do it. The thought of leaving you tears me apart. And you’re right about me lying, only it’s me I’ve been doing it to. I keep telling myself that all I want is to cherish and protect you as a friend, but….” Liam bites down on a smile, a gesture that causes Zayn’s insides to melt every time, even more so now.

 

“But?”

 

“Turns out that I love you too,” Liam whispers. “I couldn’t let you know, because you deserve more than me. ore than a dockworker.”

 

Is that what he thinks? That he isn’t good enough? When he is everything Zayn wants and needs?

 

At such short notice, Zayn can only think of one way to convince him otherwise, and so he clasps his hands on either side of Liam’s face, covering his lips with his own. Liam stills for a second before taking charge. He eliminates the remaining space between them, pulling Zayn fully onto his lap and, somewhat desperately, returns the kiss. The world around Zayn falls away. His head swims, his thoughts are obliterated. If nothing good ever again happens in his life, he won’t complain because he has this moment. 

 

They break apart only when the desire for intimacy is outweighed by their need to breathe. 

 

Liam’s forehead comes to rest against Zayn’s. “Can you hear that, Zee?”

 

Zayn can’t really hear anything, bar the blood rushing in his ears, and it takes him a minute to grasp what Liam means. When he does, a relieved grin spreads across his flushed face. Outside, the welcome screaming of the all clear siren rips through the afternoon air—they’ve made it. 

 

“So, you’re definitely not going?” he checks again, just in case the last half hour was some kind of daydream. 

 

“No, babe, I’m definitely not going, but I do want to help with the war effort. My foreman at work said that they are crying out for fire wardens. Is that ok?”

 

“Yeah,” Zayn smiles. “ill that leave you any time to take me on a date occasionally?”

 

“Try and stop me.” A huge grin spreads over Liam’s face. “I still can’t believe that we didn’t realise this earlier. That we want the same things and dream the same dreams, I mean.”

 

“I know, but we’re here now and when all this craziness is over, we will find a way to be together; until then, our love will see us through,” Zayn assures him. “For now, let’s go and let everyone know that we’re alive.”

 

After another passionate hug, they step out of the house into a world that is equally as uncertain as it is full of promise for the two of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Please tell me what you think. xx


End file.
